history doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme
by historians
Summary: The world may change and the Decimo may die, but there are things that will never change. One of which is that, mafia history cannot be written by the winners nor the losers. (AU where mafia history is recorded by historians that were once deities. oc/oc r27)
1. exact, sincere and impartial

"A historian ought to be exact, sincere and impartial; free from passion, unbiased by interest, fear, resentment or affection; and faithful to the truth, which is the mother of history the preserver of great actions, the enemy of oblivion, the witness of the past, the director of the future." ― B.R. Ambedkar, Writings and Speeches

caesar +3

* * *

Sawada Tsunayoshi, famously (or perhaps infamously) known as the Vongola Decimo, was to die that day and he was the only one who knew of it. He was sitting on his desk, a cup of hot tea innocently in front of him as he clasped his hands tightly. He was to die today and he knew of that well.

Wait. There is—there is something wrong, _something off_. Sawada Tsunayoshi cannot possibly know that he were to die! Of course, the famed Vongola Intuition might have helped, but there was no way that it would be sophisticated enough to pinpoint the exact time and exact date of the death of one Sawada Tsunayoshi! So this begs the question— _how does he know_?It was unlike the God of Death to do this, unlike of Him to favor humans so much that He would tell the exact death. It was not impossible, but it was unheard of. (Though, there was once—a young man. Once, and only once, upon a time, the God of Death fell in love with Life. You could imagine how that turned out.)

A young girl steps out of the shadows. She has the most unnatural of eyes, with it being colored pink. She had tan brown skin, accentuated by the fact that her cheeks were dusted with gold and there was a little bit of gold coming out of her nose. Her hair was a deep coppery red. She wore the most peculiar of clothes; a long sleeved (literally long-sleeved as it hid her hands too) white dress with a bright gold sun smack dab in the middle of her chest. She also wore a gold rope belt, perhaps to also hide the fact that the dress was too big for her short but slightly chubby figure. On the top of her head was a hat, a square hat with gold gear-looking trimming at the edge. Actually, it wasn't only the edges of her hats with gold gear-looking trimmings on it; it was also on the tips of her sleeves and the ends of her dress. A smile was on her face, though it was not quite happy. Nay—it was—it was grim, the smile of someone hanging on the last threads of sanity.

Of course, there was no other answer on how Tsuna knew of his upcoming death. There was no other possibility he could have known other from his historian. His Historian who was governed by the Eclipsed Sun. It also made sense, Hestia was of Eclipsed and was of Sun; those combinations tended to be clingier to their charge than any other. (They also tended to be the deities who had a better chance of fully succumbing to their sanity if they do not watch their powers well.)

Tsuna gently smiles at her as his hands were tightly clasped together as if he was praying—praying to some god—to any god out there, but there was a certain hardness in his eyes. "Hestia." He starts, "Your nose is bleeding once more."

Hestia turns gold, blushing furiously as she brings her hands to her nose, letting her sleeves drop to the floor and also showing off a pair of rings connected to each other via chain on both hands. She wipes her nose with her sleeve, dirtying her white clothes with blood. "It—it happens sometimes, Decimo."

"Really?" Tsuna tilts his hea, in faux confusion. "Last I checked, you did not bleed until you have used your gift of prophecy. You have told me that yourself Hestia."

Hestia pouts, almost childishly. "Well, _duh_! I had to use my gift! I had to double-check all outcomes of the future—well, we have the help of Maryam so everything will go through as planned but—"

"You know I do not like you using your gift of prophecy unless it is really needed." Tsuna frowns at her disapprovingly, almost as if a father scolding a child (which in all honesty wasn't far from their relationship).

"I—I'm sorry." Hestia fiddles with her hands and by extension her rings too. "I just wanted to see. I just wanted to make sure everything will go well. A-are you sure you would want to do this?"

"Do not worry Tia." Tsuna smiles at her, using a familiar nickname. "The Vongola would be in good hands even after I die. I made sure of that, and I have instructed the closest to me to destroy the famiglia if anything other than the road Giotto would have chosen will be taken."

"I do not worry about that!" Hestia lashes out, banging her hands on the desk and her eyes glowing unnaturally. In the two years Tsunayoshi has known the deity, he has not known her to lash out like this, as it would be bad for her dwindling sanity and sanity was hard to recover these days. "I no longer worry about your death as karma will inevitably strike! What I worry is—is—what I worry about is your guardians! They—they cannot witness your final moments—"

"And it will stay that way; I do not want them to see me at my worst." Tsuna calmly interrupts her. He takes a deep breath and he feels a bit sick.

"And I deserve to see you at your worse?" Hestia puts her hands on her hips, reminiscent of a child, and cocks her head.

"If I was given the chance I would not let you see me like this, but alas—you—"Tsuna takes another deep breath, composing himself before continuing, "—you have a job to do. If I had it my way, you would have stayed at least a little saner. So—for my sake, please—just continue acting like a child."

Hestia smiles grimly at him. "You forget, I act like a child not out of my own volition but for my sanity. I am older than you, older than almost everyone here on earth." Hestia's eyes harden, "I do not like acting like a simple child. If I had my way, I would act like my own age."

"Older than the rest of us but Maryam tells me you are the youngest out of everyone in the Order. Do not forget, I am technically your father as you get your existence directly from my flames." Tsuna rolls his eyes, "You say that now but you revel in acting like a child, revel in being spoiled silly."

"Stop pulling the father card when things do not go your way." Hestia groans, "Also, everyone likes being spoiled silly, and it is you who spoils me, not anyone else."

The two share a laugh and they descend into silence. The only things that can be heard would be the ticking of the grandfather clock that was gifted by the Nono to the Decimo and the breathing of both. The tension in the air was thick, and it was really making Tsuna dizzy. He did not know if it was only him who felt that or if it was the product of the poisoned cup of tea in front of him, wafting through the air.

It reminds him of the first time he met Hestia and Fumiko. It was mostly a quiet affair (a year before _his_ death, and thus one of Tsuna's happier memories of being with the Mafia) with Nono introducing the previous historians to Tsuna, who were kind ladies named Phoebe and Lily (Phoebe was a stubborn black woman who tended to be overbearing from how she would coddle Tsuna and was of the Evening Sun. Lily was a tall Asian woman who looked faintly Chinese, she was strict and cold but held a soft spot for Phoebe and was of the Eclipsed Moon.) and then subsequently introducing him to _his_ historians. Apparently, historians changed every generation to prevent further bias.

He also learned more of his great great great grandfather. How he faced the trials of Kronos just to ask a favor from the deities face to face.

He remembers meeting them the first time, and being _really_ intimidated out by the calm yet dangerous posture of the moon historian, Fumiko and being _really_ weirded out by the childish tendencies of his sun historian, Hestia. (Though when he finds out why she acts so childish, and where the sun gets her powers, he admittedly becomes a bit protective of her and starts seeing her as his own daughter.)

Speaking of the moon historian—

"Where is Fumiko?" Tsuna breaks the silence, wondering where the moon historian was. "Will she not spectate and be a witness of my death?"

"Good question!" Hestia happily replies as if Tsuna will not die that day, "Well, she—she has a few things to finish within the famiglia so she cannot come." She whistles wistfully, "I really did hope she would come today, I have missed her dearly."

Tsuna chuckles at that. "I know, you've told me almost every hour since she has left to record the history outside of the famiglia, but that is her job and soon enough the both of you will retire."

"I guess." Hestia grins weakly at him in a way that tells Tsuna she was hiding something and before Tsuna can question this, she continues. "Hey—are you—are you doing this because _he_ is no longer here?"

Tsuna blinks at her in surprise. He kind of guessed that she will ask this sooner or later but he did not think she will ask of this in a direct way. He composes himself and then smiles at her kindly, and this time there is softness in his eyes. "I am not." He reassures her but his eyes say otherwise. He unclasps his hands and takes the cup of tea by his hands. "I suppose I should drink this now?"

Hestia bites her lips, and she is once more fiddling with her rings. "I—"she starts, hesitating. She takes a deep breath composing herself before continuing. "I—I wish to tell you that karma is inevitable and you have way too much karma to spend in a lifetime, besides—my grimoire of history is not filled up all the way."

Tsuna freezes at the implication of the other's words to the point that he almost spills his tea. He looks at Hestia, straight in the eyes despite the other trying to avoid the contact. "T-Tia." He stutters out and winces inwardly. He was no longer a teenager, and if _he_ was here then Tsuna would once again be on the receiving end of the Leon hammer. "There is no need to lie—there is no need to try and coddle me." He smiles at her, almost sorrowfully, "I have accepted my fate. My short two years was a good run and at least I die, not facing the barrel of a gun."

Hestia looks as if she wants to say something to him, before hesitating. She bows her head down and shakes her head. "Do what you must. I will see you soon."

Tsuna gives him once more smile and downs the tea in one go, with Hestia wincing as he does. Almost immediately, he feels the poison working, spreading to his veins and blood.

He coughs out, splattering blood all over the desk, and he remembers that his (technical) daughter was watching and he makes an effort to cover his mouth. He feels blood pouring out of his nose, eyes and ears and it _burns_. He stops a sob coming out from him, as he doubles over. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would feel a tad touched that this famiglia spent a fortune in buying potent poison for him.

He tries to take a breath, but finds that he cannot. Perhaps it was because of the amount of blood pouring out of his nose or because the poison has already reached his brain, he does not know and perhaps he will never find the time to care. He tries _and_ tries to brave the pain, starting to regret and wishing death by a gun, and spares a final look at his historian, _his daughter_.

Then, as he looks at her, a miracle happens.

Tsunayoshi Sawada _sees_ him. He sees him in his full glory, still wearing that god-awful fitted suit with paired with that god-awful fedora and that god-awful cocky smirk who promised excitement, danger, and mystery which he admittedly missed. It's been so long since he's last saw him, ever since his death last year.

He misses Reborn, and he will finally be with him once more.

He removes his hand from his mouth, and his heart breaks at Hestia's soft broken gasps. He no longer feels the excruciating pain that he felt earlier, instead he only feels a slight sting and peace. Peace because soon— _soon_ he will be with him.

Sawada Tsunayoshi, (in)famously known as Vongola Decimo, closed his eyes and took his last breath. (He died at the tender age of twenty years old after leading Vongola into a fruitful two years. The famiglia who was responsible for his death was swiftly taken care of.

After the death of the Decimo, no one ever saw Hestia Miamore or Nozomi Fumiko ever again.)

* * *

A child with gravity defying brown hair opens his brown eyes rather abruptly. He stares at the sky for a moment, before finally sitting down. He was obviously quite confused, judging from the expression on his face. He looks at his hands, curiously opening and closing them before touching his hair. His eyes widen as he remembers the words of an old friend (" _my grimoire of history is not filled up all the way._ ")

 _Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no_ , the young boy thinks as he starts to piece out what happened and what is going on. Shouldn't he be dead? Shouldn't he have died? Why isn't he dead? He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself as the words of his old friend repeats itself in the back of his mind. ( _"my grimoire of history is not filled up all the way._ ")

His view on the world darkens, and he looks up to see unnatural pink eyes looking at him intently. The girl's smile is coiled into a smirk and she laughs. "Look! I finally look older than you here!"

" _Hi—e!_ "He exclaims out, in shock and then promptly faints.

* * *

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 **vkrxog l vdb idyh & uhylhz? shukdsv.!**


	2. historians are the keepers of truth

historians are the keepers of truth

caesar +3

* * *

It is too early for you to read this, but I suppose now is better than never.

Before you continue on, would it not be better for me to explain you how this all works? It is troublesome I know. I know that it is hard and troublesome for you to read things not part of her; but for you to understand better, for you to bear the weight of her sacri—

(I should not dwell on her death. I should not make this about her death but it is _painfully_ hard. I practically raised her all by myself—to see her die. To see her die—I really have become soft.)

History should not be written by the winners. History should be fair, unbiased. She should have both—nay, all sides for her to be considered history. History, theoretically, should be free and untainted, and should be for all of the people. Alas, nowadays the world bastardizes the meaning of history, they twist her into something and she cannot fight back and thus she tells lies.

(Do not believe modern history; seek out answers on your own.)

Though, there is one faction, one community who still holds history at a higher place. They hold her and treat her like the Queen and Goddess she is. Of course, it is needed for them to have a clear, unbiased, concise recount of history; after all, they get their prestige from their bloodlines. Importance is not measured by strength, rather measured by how long their famiglia has been around.

Idiotic, I know, but I should not talk. After all, they're the reason I'm not dying of boredom.

Who am I?

All will be revealed at the end of this letter, but first let us talk about the people who keep track of history.

We are called Historians, though we keep track of a different kind of history. Often tragic, often comedic but every time, bloody. We do this of our own volition; an eternity of serving Kronos (which would just be us, keeping still) is boring and would make us insane. It is not good to be immortal afflicted with insanity, that would be asking for trouble, that would be asking for chaos. To be immortal and to be insane—that is what every deity fears.

If he—if that mortal human did not come to us with an absurd request, then perhaps right now, every deity working for the orders would be insane or perhaps died a million times now. (being immortal does not mean you cannot die, it means you cannot stay dead for long.)

I fear I have strayed enough from the topic at hand.

We historians record the history of every famiglia in existence. Every famiglia, young or old, good or bad, vigilante or not, we record, we keep track, we _know_ the darkest secrets.

Each famiglia have two historians, a light-based historian and a dark-based historian. One, typically the light-based, to manage the history of the inner group, the boss and the guardians; and the other, the dark-based, to manage the history of the outer group, more on the famiglia's interactions with others. The one who manages the historians depend on what Order they are a part of. Though, not all famiglias have the same orders managing their history. For example, Sky-governed famiglias' history are recorded by the Order of the Sun and the Moon, whilst it's counterpart, the Earth-governed famiglias are catered by the Order of Gravity and Levity. Water-governed famiglias, though often times rare, are under the Order of Neptune and Mars. Though we will not be talking about Earth-governed famiglias or Water-governed famiglias.

We are here to talk of the Sky and of its Order.

I was part of the first generation historians and I am part of the Order of the Sun and the Moon. That man—I am deeply indebted to the man who first came to us and asked of us of this favor, after all without him, I would perhaps spiraled down to insanity and I would have never met other deities. I shall repay him by telling you the inner workings of the Order of the Sun and the Moon, _my beloved Order_.

We have the Sun historians, and the Moon historians.

The Sun historians, often with the light core, handle the personal affairs of the famiglia. She is in charge of watching over the inner famiglias and is in charge of recording. She tends to be more emotional and childish than her dark counterpart and is more close to the famiglia; she often gives advice, if she ever knows and meets her charge directly (there are universes where we cannot meet them because our charges flames are too impure or too weak for us to appear, and there are some historians that cannot bear the emotional attachment she will indeed go through and prefer to watch from afar) because of this, which is highly frowned upon.

The Sun historians can be broken down into four factions. The Morning sun, The Noon Sun, The Evening Sun and The Eclipsed Sun. The Four Factions each have a head (Arpina, Marisol, Lucille and Cassandra), thought the four heads have one leader which they rely on, the reincarnation of the Sun, Maryam.

The Morning Sun, those with the balanced of light cores and is much easier to summon as they do not care of the purity of flames, only the strength; they are more of combat-based. Though they are often hard-headed, though caring for other in her own way. A bit intimidating, Morning Sun historians are actually one of the sweetest historians all around.

The Noon Sun, the strongest of the suns with the lightest of light cores; much harder to summon as they are more of the purity of the flames, and they are more on strategic or leadership-based. Cool-headed, and strict, and often no-nonsense The most powerful of them all, the Noon Sun are the greatest of the suns, but of course perhaps that would be me being biased as I am of the Noon Sun.

The Evening Sun, the murkiest of light cores, easier to summon as they do not care of strength nor purity, they simply—exist; they are healing-based, which is rare and important. They often take assignments, but after taking one would retire for most of their immortal life as majority of them would rather like to work for the medic ward rather than taking assignments. She is most likely to be closer with the Morning Sun as those historians are often the ones easily hurt.

Of course—the Eclipsed Sun, these—these suns are tricky and are the rarest of them all, their cores are both light and both dark; the weakest of them all and they are more prophecy-based, able to see to the future for more than five seconds (which was average for all historians), and up to ten years, though they would have to sacrifice part of their sanity for it. Childish because she _has_ to, if she would want to maintain her sanity. The most tragic of the historians, other suns are more protective of her if they ever figure out she was of eclipsed.

The Moons, often with dark-based cores, are simpler than the Suns, and can be broken down into three groups. The Twilight Moon, The Dusk Moon, and the Eclipsed Moon. Unfortunately, it is not known if each factions have a head (though it is widely presumed), and that is because the reincarnation of the Moon have not yet been determined. One thing unique to the moon is that all of them can cast complex healing magic as all of them were bestowed upon the blessing of healing.

The Twilight Moon holder of lighter dark cores, are the weakest of them all. She is more academic-based to the point that she cannot be considered strategic as she lacks the determination to be cunning, and only wants to devour information. She is often are antisocial and refuses to interact with her light counterpart to the point that most Sun historians with Twilight Moons as partners do not even know her name.

The Dusk Moon, with dark cores (though still tinted with light), are more strategic-based and she is the most cunning of all the moons and perhaps the darkest of them all, willing to be ruthless to get what she wants. Though she cares very deeply for her charge, she will do anything to gather history. She is ruthless, yes, but she is not the most powerful.

The Eclipsed Moon, with the darkest of all cores, is combat-based. The strongest of them all, and also the most secretive. Even I do not know the full extent of their powers and thus I cannot generalize nor profile them. It is quite troubling and is quite—scary.

Though we are divided into many groups and factions, rest assured, we work in tandem to do our job and we do it _perfectly_. We record from the outsider's point of view, and even if we get attached, we are never biased. We record history in a concise, neutral way and perhaps that is why the Vongola can be considered as one of the most influential. Without our records, you can say that the Vongola would be nothing.

It isn't to say that everyone in the Mafia knows of our existence. Nay, it is the complete opposite. We are rumors. Mythos. Beings that can only be talked about in hushed whispers by the adults and deities that are told to children for them to sleep, _oh yes_ we are the Mafia's open secret. No one knows if we are real, or if we are only _mito_. No one knows except for the boss of the famiglia themselves. (They are bound by the historian's wishes, if they were to reveal the historians existence to their famiglia though we historians _always_ say no)

Now that I have introduced you to the terminologies and of our Use; perhaps, it is time for you to watch my child's famiglia. The deity that I have loved as a child, and the deity that I have raised. Perhaps it is time for you to know what have had happened and why she had to sacrifice herself and her body and her sanity. She died, and until now, I and her Moon and her charge are still waiting for her to be reborn.

Until then, know of her story and know of her charge's second chance at living.

Hestia Miamore, my child, was the Sun Historian of Tsunayoshi Sawada, the descendant of the first generation Vongola who was my charge and the one who asked of us of this favor

Yours truly,

Maryam bint Schailey, the Head Priestess of the Order of the Sun and the Moon, the Sun Incarnate, a Priestess of the House of the Noon Sun, a Mother, a Sister, a Friend, and most importantly, before anything else—a Historian.

* * *

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	3. history changes all the time

"History changes all the time. It is constantly being re-examined and re-evaluated, otherwise how would we be able to keep historians occupied? We can't possibly allow people with their sort of minds to walk around with time on their hands." ― Terry Pratchett

caesar +3

* * *

"Ufufu—!" One Hestia Miamore giggles as she helps Tsunayoshi stand up. She wasn't wearing her traditional clothes, oh no! She was wearing a mustard yellow sweater, paired with a white tennis skirt. It was unnerving to see her in such a short skirt as Tsunayoshi didn't even _know_ Hestia had legs (he always assumed he did not, as she looked like she was floating and he didn't hear her steps whenever she walked). Instead of her hat, her hair was pushed up in a headband. "You really think I would've let you died _too_ young?"

"Well—" Tsuna can't help but push his hands into his pockets. It was weird to hear such a young voice come out of him, but he supposes it's quite alright, seeing as he was _you know_ reverted back to being a kid once more. "You _are_ a historian; you're supposed to be fair and unbiased so—yeah."

Hestia rolls her eyes. "I _am_ unbiased and fair. Fair enough to appeal to Maryam for an extension of your life." She took out her big book of Decimo History from _god knows where_. It literally just appeared with a poof and showed its contents to Tsuna, flipping it swiftly. "Look! It's _practically_ not yet done! I've only written like _what_ , five percent of the book?" Hestia sighs, closing the book and letting it disappear, surprising Tsuna a little bit. "I admit that I do care about you Tsuna! You're practically _my_ father, but I take my job seriously. I don't care if you wanted to die that day—I don't. The Order doesn't. Well, Kronos might care…" She trails off before picking back her train of thought. "Don't even try and complain, I _had_ to convince Maryam to do this for me and Fumiko!" Hestia shudders thinking of promises she'll have to fulfil after recording Tsuna's history.

"Is that why Phoebe had to sub for you that whole week in February despite being in retirement with her wife." Tsuna asks, biting his lips. It was weird to have Hestia doing _stuff_ for him. His Sun historian was kind, _yes_ , he would not deny that but she often adopted the mentality of a selfish five year old, kind of like Lambo when he was young. There's nothing like taking care of a second Lambo, even if the person we're talking about was actually a century (perhaps more?) old deity. "Also! I'm not complaining, I'm—I'm wondering."

"Well! Good. I guess." Hestia shrugs, fiddling her hands. Her rings connected with chains were still with her, which was a nice constant that kept Tsuna not catatonic. It still made that god awful clanging sound whenever she fiddled with it. "Yes. Phoebe was such an understanding girl; I hope she and Lily will have a wonderful time together." Hestia says wistfully, looking at the horizon; thoughts of Tsuna complaining about him being alive already disappeared from her mind and were replaced by the thoughts of an older girl with the bluest of eyes exploring the world.

Tsuna sighs as he realized that Hestia was probably thinking of Fumiko, the moon historian who was probably also off recording history outside of the inner famiglia. He cannot help the jealousy bubbling up as he remembers his own love, his own _dead_ love. He tries and squashes it down, it's been a _year,_ he should not feel this kind of sting. He takes the hand of his Sun Historian, assumes that the place is Namimori and then goes with a surprised but quite historian in tow. The sun was setting and it was time for them to go home.

This snaps out Hestia from her wistfulness and comes into a complete stop, halting the both of them and making Tsuna almost trip (how embarrassing!). The Decimo looks at the Historian with curious and prying eyes, obviously confused yet there was an underlying firmness to it. He was confused, not in a way that would say he was unprepared, his look carried _something_ that said he was confused for being stopped for no good reason. He was obviously tired from being left out and being left in the dark.

Hestia removed her arm from Tsuna's grip and started fiddling her hands. She was nervous and boy did Tsuna noticed _and_ knew. Tsuna frowned and folded his arms and started tapping his foot, waiting for an explanation. The Historian started to get nervous, she joked and teased Tsuna of course, _but_ it wasn't like she wasn't still afraid of him. She was afraid—afraid in the same way that daughters would be afraid of their father.

There were times where, even if she was a century old deity, still got scared of Tsunayoshi Sawada, her charge.

"Um, before we go—"Hestia fiddles with her hands as she takes a deep breath, composing herself "—there's something I have to tell you!"

Tsuna looks at her with a look a cross of confusion and exasperation. "Go on." He says, the tapping of his foot getting faster and faster.

"Well, _er_. Remember when I told you that I gave you an extension of your life?" Hestia says hesitantly, "When you woke up in your child's body?"

"That's kind of hard to forget, Hestia." Tsuna dryly says, not liking where this conversation is going. He looks at his hand though, baby face (he assumes) frowning. "Though, _why_ did I get turned into a child? Why not a teen version of me— _why_ a child?"

" _We—-ll_ ," Hestia prolongs the word, in an effort to buy time ( _for what?_ Tsuna did not know. He supposes it was what every child did when they were young and trying to get out of something bad that they did). "Um, it's a bit more complicated than that." Hestia takes a deep breath, preaparing herself for her next sentence. "Y _oudidn'tgetturnedintoachild!_ " Hestia spits out quickly, not giving Tsuna time to adjust and process and understand.

"Uh, mind repeating that again?" Tsuna raises an eyebrow, curious and confused. "Cause, I didn't hear a word. Like. At all."

Hestia bites her lips, "Well, you didn't get turned into a child." Hestia explains, "Instead your mind and soul got, um, transported into your past self's body." And before Tsuna can reply and _do anything_ with that information, Hestia continues and rambles. "It was the only way Maryam would've accepted you being revived! Be transported back into the past and your child self was the only body we could take without it being _really really_ weird! So, it's now basically my fault why you're stuck in a reincarnation-like situation!" Hestia was now turning gold, and snotty-faced. She was moving from all over the place, jittery and obviously nervous. "I mean! On the bright side, at least you aren't a girl and still is your gender! Or a thief! Or an arcobaleno! Or has a twin brother who abuses you or _basically_ all things that isn't in line with your history! I mean—it _happens_ sometimes! Ask any historian, ask—ask—ask _Apollo_ and she'll tell you—"

"Oh, is that all?" Tsuna cuts her off, and then takes her arm and proceeds to go home, confusing the hell out of Hestia.

(They do not see, but in the shadows, a young skylark watches them with curious eyes. A young skylark curious of how the book appeared and disappeared so quickly, and what they mean by reincarnation.)

* * *

"Welcome home Tsu-kun—!" His mother greets him, and Tsuna gets weak in the knees. "Ara? Who is this pretty girl you've brought with you?" His mother blinks at him, as she smiles gently and warmly. (Once upon a time, Tsuna once thought his mother was of the Sky with how she seemed to accepted everything. He was wrong.)

He thought that Hestia was only joking when she tells her he was transported to the past (a lie, a _filthy_ lie, somewhere in the back of your head you know she was telling the truth. you know hestia cannot lies—she cannot lie. she is bound by the laws, bound by the rules of her order and of her job to be fair and unbiased and—). He thought that she was pulling his leg, but to see his mother.

To see his mother.

To see his mother _living_ and _breathing_ and _smiling_ and just plain _alive_ once more, it is—it is—it is—no feeling can describe what Tsuna feels at this moment. It is warmth, happiness, and _plain_ hope blooming from his chests slowly but surely, filling up his ribs with irises, and he _feels_ it running in his veins. Hope winning over him and coloring him and just rising, and rising and rising until it explodes, splattering his whole being with despair, sadness, and worthlessness, replacing the warm color of hope as he gets reminded by his failures. It was his fault; his inexperience got his mother killed and he cannot forgive himself for that.

At this moment, this exact moment in where he sees someone that's _supposed to be dead_ living _and_ breathing and just doing things she used to do, it hits him. It hits him that he died, and he is in the past. He closes his hands in a tight fist, hard enough that he is sure when he opens it there will be crescent moons on his palms but he does not care because it _hits him_.

It hits him that he will meet and talk to dead people.

It hits him and he _understands_ , he understands the rare power given to him—understands that this way he _can_ change and he _will_ change the future.

He will not waste the power given to him by Hestia and Maryam. He cannot, he will be a fool to do so.

He does not open his fists, and he further digs his nails into his palms, and he feels his skin breaking and feels blood dripping into his nails. He does not care and he keeps his hands like that, still staring at his mom in shock as he does, closed in a fist, praying once more to any god out there.

He runs to his room.

* * *

("Oh, um! I'm quite sorry, but I am a friend of your son." Hestia introduces herself, bowing slightly, in an attempt to distract the worried mother from her son's outburst. "It is a pleasure to meet you!"

"It's also a pleasure to meet you," Nana responds gracefully before touching her cheek and frowning in confusion. "Now, what's got into my little Tsu-kun." She hums, asking rhetorically, but Hestia takes this as a chance to _pounce_.

"Well—I suppose, it might be because of me?" Hestia starts. It does not feel right to lie to someone so pure and innocent like Nana, but there are wrongs that are still needed in the world. "You see, I'm quite new here! I work in the library near here, that's how Tsuna and I met, but you see—as I am new, I do not quite have a place to say. I suppose, Tsuna remembered that and got agitated? I read that once, in a book, that compassionate kids often get so empathetic that they also get stressed by it."

"Oh! What a caring young boy," Nana smiles, and it seems like the situation has been averted. "I know! We have plenty of room here, why don't you stay with us? It would be nice to have another person in the house!"

"Oh," Hestia flushes gold, and she hopes the other does not notice. "I couldn't possibly trespass and take advantage of your hospitality—"

Nana takes her hands, and Hestia sees a flash of desperation in her eyes. A flash of desperation that only screams out loneliness, and the Historian's heart can't help but soften. " _Please_." Nana says, sounding a little like begging, "I insist. You would not tread and take advantage of our hospitality! We are more than glad to take you in!"

Hestia sighs, "If you insist."

The smile she gets from Nana makes her a little proud. Now to get a job at the local library.)

* * *

"I want to change the future. I want to save everyone. I want to save _him_."

This is what Hestia hears when she enters the room of Tsuna. What she sees though, is a completely different matter. The room is filled with papers, from the ceiling to the walls. It consists of mostly Italian but Hestia can see smatterings of Japanese, Chinese and English among them. It no longer looks like a child's room, but rather a mad scientist's room about to make a breakthrough _or_ a strategist's room about to go to war. She looks and realizes that all of them are rescue plans for the future deaths they will see. (she checks later, she checks later if there is any mention of _him_. there is none. there is almost fifty for his father, but none for _him_. her heart breaks, is _his_ death really unavoidable?)

Hestia sighs, she did expect to hear this from her charge. "I know." She tells him, "I would be a fool if I ever thought otherwise."

"So, are you in with me?" Tsuna asks, his eyes hopeful and almost tinged with orange as he awaits Hestia's answer.

Hestia ruffles his head, almost taking pleasure from finally doing this to the other (it was always Tsuna who ruffles, not the other way around.) "I am your historian; I am bound to record your wants, needs, and actions." She smiles, almost wildly. "Besides, it would be _boring_ to record the same things all over again! That'd drive me faster to insanity!"

The smile Tsuna gives her can rival even the brightest of suns and stars. Hestia embraces Tsunayoshi as tight as she can and she feels her charge smile and embraces back , firmer than what Hestia could ever give.

For once, all is right and all is peaceful.

* * *

("Before I forget! How did you know that I had an alternate future where I was a girl? Or a thief? Or an arcobaleno? Or had an abusive twin?" Tsuna eyes his historian with wary eyes and frowns. Hestia freezes. "Were you sacrificing your sanity once more?"

"No!" Hestia replies, a little too quickly, "I did not! I would never! I only asked around!"

Tsuna gives her a _look_ that said serious repercussions if she continued to lie.

" _Alright, maybe_ maybe sometimes!" Hestia cracked. "You can't blame me! I wanted to see all possible outcomes, and most of them were comedic! Some were downright tragic! I didn't want you to go through all that!"

"That doesn't mean you can give your sanity for me!" Tsuna retorts before sighing. He signals Hestia to come down and the girl crouched down to the Decimo's height. He ruffled the other's hair, earning him a groan. "Just—don't do it again next time, promise me?"

"I can't lie, but I'll try my best." is Hestia's reply.)

* * *

("Where will you sleep?" Tsuna asks, later that night after they have eaten. He already knows that Hestia will sleep in his house but he does not know what room.

Hestia frowns at him and then tilts her head childishly. She brings up her blanket and then points at a pillow on Tsuna's bed. "Here! _Duh_." She childishly tells him before diving into bed and wrapping herself with the blanket.

Tsuna smiles exasperatedly and joins her in bed. Something tells him that tomorrow would be a long day.)

* * *

(he hopes that he is wrong.)

* * *

 **kp, shukdsv l vkrxog wub dqrwkhu flskhu. l gr qrw nqrz li dqbrqh duh wublqj wr ghfrgh pb flskhuv! exw l mxvw oryh flskhuv, dqg l oryh wkh fdhvdu flskhu iru lw'v vlpsolflwb. lv dqbrqh hqmrblqj wklv? zrxog lw eh ehwwhu li l zrxog ehfrph vrphrqh zlwk brx nqrz, frpprq vhqvh dqg qrw frgh pb qrwhv? shukdsv, shukdsv. exw l dp pdubdp! dqg l frpplw wr d fkdudfwhu! pdubdp elqw vfkdlohb, wkrxjk prwkhuob, lv dfwxdoob ixfnlqj sdudqrlg, brx glgqw khdu wkdw iurp ph. edk! l glgqw frpphqw rq wkh fkdswhu dw doo! wkrxjk wkhuh zrxog eh wkuhh suh-fkdrv fkdswhuv! wkh qhaw zrxog irfxv pruh rq wld ! pb fklog, l oryh khu. li brx kdyhq'w jxhvvhg, l jxhvv wklv zkroh vwrub zrxog eh ph wublqj rxw pb fkdudfwhuv ehiruh l jr dqg zulwh wkh zkroh wklqj dv d ixfnlqj zhefrplf ru errn. suredeob d errn, l kdyh wrr pdqb zhefrplf lghdv (prvwob derxw ohveldqv! ehfdxvh, l... d Jdb.)**

 **rate & review!**

 **(l jxhvv l'oo ohdyh wklv xqfrghg)**


	4. desire to speak with the dead

"I began with the desire to speak with the dead." ― Stephen Greenblatt

caesar has been stabbed.

proceed with the vignette.

the code is "martyr"

* * *

There is little that can scare and confuse one Hibari Kyoya.

If you would think about it, and if he would think about it deeply, there should be none that can scare nor confuse him. He was a Hibari! Hibari should not be someone who can be easily confused nor easily scared, his mother _,_ _Yue Huan_ (月环) did say so. She told him a long time ago, before she left for China and left him with his father. She told him in a way that he will never forget. (He won't forget, after all, he still bears the scars of her writing that happened almost a year ago.)

His father was there, thankfully. Smiling warmly and another emotion Kyoya can't quite recognize but he still decides he does not want to see that emotion on his father's face. His father, Hibari Takahiro (雲雀高広), was holding a bottle of antiseptic on a hand and the other was a roll of bandages. He was unable to stop his moth— _Yue,_ (his father told him to not call her mother anymore and kyoya does not. not because of his father's wishes but because he knows yue won't be around to be his mother anymore.) from the scars of her writing on her back, but Kyoya does not care; at least, he knows that his father would not do that. His father was a gentle soul a stark contrast to Yue Huan and Hibari Kyoya.

"Do not worry my child," His father said, as he applied antiseptic to his back. Kyoya winced as he felt the cool liquid on his back. "Her words may hold a little bit of truth, but they are half-truths. Incomplete."

Kyoya could not reply, only trying to stop his crying. Yue's knife, even if it was only flesh wounds, had hurt him and he does not dare make a sound, scared and frightened of the thought that his mother may be there and just waiting for him to slip just so she can continue her writing.

"Such beautiful calligraphy." His father muttered, as he wraps bandages around Kyoya's back. When he finished, he turned Kyoya around so that the child can face him. Kyoya felt relief as he saw his father's calm eyes. "Beautiful calligraphy twisted in lies. Do not believe Yue my son. You may be a Hibari and you may be a Huan, but you are my child first." He pulled him in a firm yet tender hug.

"You are free to cry, free to show what is perceived to be weakness; that is strength too. To be sensitive, to be kind, to be merciful and to empathize is strength. Do not believe her." His father whispered as he pulled back to look at Kyoya more clearly. There were tears flowing out from his eyes, and Kyoya could only look at him in awe as he was expressing emotions _clearly_ , something his mother did not want to do. "You are free to do what you want, do not be held back by the yakuza or by the triads. DO not be held back just because you are a Hibari and a Huan."

Kyoya does not understand, rather he does not listen to his father and only stares at him. He finally understands the last words of his mother before she left him for his father to treat his wounds. Kyoya does not listen to his mother and he doesn't like his mother very much, but he understands and for once, he will follow the last wishes of his mother.

He nods at his father and embraces him once more with all his might. The week after that incident he starts learning how to fight and quickly takes it to it like fish to water. The month after that, he establishes the Disciplinary Committee with Tetsuya Kusakabe in tow.

Few people know that the Disciplinary Committee was not created to protect Namimori, it shifted to that after the first few months, as it was easier if people did not know the true reason why the committee was created (there were thugs who very much wanted to get back at Kyoya, and he would be damned if he let some few low-life thugs to hurt his father). Fewer people know that the Disciplinary Committee was created to protect Hibari Takahiro, the second heir of the Hibari-gumi.

It was not as if Hibari Takahiro could not protect himself, _he could_. Like his son, he was a proficient close-combat fighter, also opting for tonfas, but he did not like hurting other people. He was a gentle and empathetic soul who could not hurt people willingly, even if they were the one who had hurt him first. Yue must have known that he would not survive well underground, be it the chivalrous organizations called the yakuza, or be it with the triads.

(" _i will no longer be here to protect your weak and caring father." yue whispers to him in chinese after she carves out_ _強_ _to his back. she whispers to him low enough that his father does not hear it but dangerous enough to let kyoya know of the finality of her words. "get stronger and protect him yourself. consider this as the last wish of your soon to be dead mother."_

 _kyoya only nods.)_

That has been a long tangent. Let's get back to the topic at hand.

There are a few things that can confuse Hibari Kyoya. He makes it a point to not show his emotions in real life, makes it a point to not be confused (after all, confusion, even in a split-second can end in failure and the death of his father). At such a young age, Kyoya has isolated himself from other kids and trained himself to become someone that can protect his father. This, of course, has made him one of the most awkward kid to date but also one of the deadliest (he'd gladly pick deadly over social smarts. his father can be the one who can handle affairs with other people).

Even though he does not know the latest trends with kids these days, never mind the fact that he knows how to incapacitate a fully grown man in three different ways (he's still trying to raise the number up), he's _definitely_ sure that a young woman can't quite let a book appear in thin air, unless the laws of the known universe changed while he was training, but he's pretty sure it didn't. He's positive that a kid can't scold someone older than him, much less a kid who _always_ gets bullied. He also knows that souls (if they even exist) can't quite move and replace another's soul!

What on earth is happening here?

Hibari Kyoya swears that he'll find out. After all he is the protector of Namimori and his father, nothing escapes him, and this, too, won't. (he won't get sucked in, he won't. he'll simply check if the two will be a danger to his town, if they aren't—good for them, they won't be bitten to death but if they are? they'll be dead before they can even _plead_ for their lives.)

Kyoya Hibari was perhaps in a shitty mood because of newcomers in town.

* * *

Hestia "Tia" Miamore was in a great mood.

"Aren't you glad that Maryam had the forethought to change your soul in in the beginning of summer?" Tia hummed behind the librarian's counter. She was still wearing her mustard yellow sweater and short white skirt. The only difference was that she was now wearing black stockings and white sneakers. She was still tan, but there was something _off_ with the color of her skin, now rather—a bit pale. She was grinning wildly as she clasped the big grimoire on her desk. It was a wonder that she even got a job in this library seeing as everyday was a slow day. She wasn't complaining though, there was truth now to the words she told Nana and she had as much time to update her grimoire on the history of Vongola. "This is fun! Relaxing even."

Though, the mood of Tsunayoshi Sawada was the complete opposite.

"Don't remind me." He groaned as he did supplementary homework. He found it stuffed under his book bag that morning, rather Hestia found it accidentally for him. He _can't_ believe how 'dame' his past self was and would gladly punch his past self even if he was a kid. Didn't his past self know how to time manage things? To finish the icky things so early before so that he can have fun! Thankfully, as Tia said, it was the beginning of summer so he just had to do this extra homework. Extra _supplementary_ homework he wouldn't have been doing if past him was a hard worker. He would _very much_ want to continue making plans on saving his future friends rather than doing something _so easy_.

"Quite frustrated, Decimo?" Tia airily says as she continues writing away on her grimoire. She then stops and puts her feathered quill away. "Do you think this passage works for you really well? ' _The young Decimo, perhaps we should now call him ex-Decimo since he was now back at his young age, was frustrated at having to do easy work. He looked a second away from tearing all his homework up, he was not amused by the questions laid out before him. It was because he did not like doing work that he already knows, after all the Decimo did not like repetition.'_ " She reads off the grimoire, obviously proud of her work.

Tsunayoshi groans and then writes the last kanji of his language homework and starts packing up his things.

"Hey, _wait_ , Decimo—where are you going?" Tia pouts childishly as she picks up her quill again, ready to dip it in her ink pot so she can write about the events of now.

" _Leaving_." Tsuna replies, "I'm going home and finishing the _rest_ of my homework there instead of here. Free of pesky deities bothering my suffering."

"You can't quite take that against me! It's quite fun _and_ cute to see you troubled over your homework!" Tia grins, "Especially when I know that you know those kanjis!"

Tsuna rolls his eyes before neatly stuffing his homework back in his book bag. "I hate you." He tells her before finally leaving.

"I know you love me! I'm practically your daughter!" Tia calls out at Tsuna's leaving figure. She sighed when his charge finally left the library and then continues writing in her grimoire. She bites her lips, not quite sure how to continue her next passage. She knows that she doesn't need to be _near_ Tsuna nowadays because of modern technology (leave it to her to bug their house!), but it's hard to word her passages _right_. She frowns, biting her lips. She shrugs and continues her writing in the grimoire, hoping it'll end up good.

* * *

Well, it ended _really_ badly and with some of the most sloppy passages writing Hestia has _ever_ written!

She groans as she feels fluid coming out of nose and doesn't bother with it, thinking it would just be snot. She's been sickly nowadays, her skin being a bit paler than usual and her having something akin to the flu. She touches it with her nose and then looks at it. What she sees almost makes her heart give out.

Gold colored her index finger, and she stares at it in confusion. Hestia doesn't recall using her powers nor using her magic nowadays. She won't risk it, not when Tsunayoshi would look at her in such an _awful_ way when he figures out she's been using her powers. Why on earth—

It could not be. Hestia has known and has thought and had an inkling of thought that this would happen, but she thought it would not be _very_ soon. It can't—this can't be happening to her. _It should not happen yet_ —

The bell that informs Tia there is a new person wanting to use the library, she quickly rubs off the gold in her nose using the sleeves of her sweater and pushes that sick and bad feeling about what's happening to her ( _it's too early, she calculated a month, not two days! her being affected by it this early_ — _she knew it would happen but not this fucking early! in hindsight she should've known—she was showing the symptoms and she **was** of eclipsed sun!_ ). She closes her grimoire and sets it aside, and closes her inkpot.

"Welcome! " She smiles rather widely, after all, every kid that goes to the library despite it being summer and practically the salvation of every kid suffering in school out there is right in her books. She looks at the kid, all raven haired and stoic-faced and bluish grey eyes (which reminded her a bit of her paramour, Fumiko—she wonders what the other girl was doing, probably adventuring and also missing Tia). Accompanying him was another kid with a ridiculous hairstyle and who just looked worried and Tia did not know if he was worried for her or for the other kid. There was something awfully familiar about the two kids, something she should probably remember. A Historian with memory problems isn't really a good historian. "What brings you here, little kids?"

A tonfa immediately finds its way buried in her desk and suddenly Tia _remembers_.

'What a pity,' Tia thinks as she examines the tonfa in her desk, 'I quite liked this desk.' She then turns back again to the young cloud guardian. She should've expected it; she _knows_ that the young cloud guardian was always bloodthirsty. Even to new people in town, _especially_ to new people in town. (well, tia understands, she'd also be quite violent if she suspects anyone would try and harm her parental figure.)

"Phooey, first day of the job and a desk already broken. New record, perhaps." Tia still smiles at the young cloud and then rests her head in her hands, the chains of her rings clanging. "What can I do for you two kids?"

"I'll be bit—"

"He would love to borrow an animal book!" The guy before him quickly interrupts what the cloud guardian would want, probably something alongside of biting Tia to death. _Tetsuya Kusakabe_ , even when they were kids, the guy still tried his best to protect Kyoya from unnecessary fights. "My _friend_ here Kyoya, would love to borrow an animal book. He's recently got into animals, you feel?"

"Ah! I totally understand! When I was your age, which was a _long_ time ago mind you, I'm older than I look! I also had an animal phase." Tia giggles, remembering her childhood, rather her training days where she annoyed _the fuck_ out of her roommate with her animal facts. She stepped out of her desk and gestures them to a nearby shelf. She hums a little bit and out in the corner of her eyes, she watches Kusakabe talking down one angry Hibari Kyoya that currently had his other tonfa before he could maim and injure Tia. She almost laughs there and then at their conversation.

" _Kyoya, listen!_ We're not here to harm a young woman!" Kusakabe whispers quite nervously, whilst trying to restrain the other kid by hugging Kyoya. " _We can't hurt innocent people!_ "

"Kusakabe, you're a dear friend of mine—possibly more in the future if your mother accepts my proposal—but you have to _understand_ we can! We _can_ hurt herbivores!" Kyoya hisses out while Kusakabe splutters at his words. "If it's for the safety of Namimori _and_ my father we can!"

" _What godforsaken new proposal have you proposed to my mother?_ Have you been talking to her without me _nor_ my father again?" Kusakabe exclaims, obviously trying his best to calm down his friend. "Your family has been my family's friends for years but _you can't strengthen that by trying to marry me!_ " Kusakabe coughs, "Though, that's beside the point! You still can't hurt innocent people! What will your mother say?"

"I _can_ and I _will!_ You're the perfect wife Kusakabe, can you not see that?" Kyoya practically shouts out, trying to free himself of Kusakabe's grip. He's a bit proud that his training of the other guy did pay off. " _Yue_ would tell that I was doing a good job and will encourage me to do even more!"

"I'm not the _perfect wife_! We can't get married!" Kusakabe shouts out, he was getting a bit tired trying to restrain the other and inhales. "Then what will your father think?!"

" _Tell me why we can't get married then?!"_ Kyoya hisses out, before stopping and contemplating on his friend's, _future fiancé's_ , words. He lowers his tonfa down as he ponders on those words and imagines his father's reaction before shivering. "I—perhaps, he'd get mad at me."

" _See_. We should not harm this woman who was only trying to do her job!" Kusakabe finally lets go of Kyoya and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Kyoya, _I'm afraid_ , we can't get married. We're both boys, and _besides_ Japan does not allow people of the same sex to get married."

Kyoya brandishes his tonfa again, his eyes are murderous. "I suppose I'll have to bite the government of Japan to death."

Before Kyoya can go out and bite any government to death (which Tia does not doubt he can do), she turns her attention back at the two kids, with a book in hand. A very _large_ book that will no doubt keep the two occupied and will let Tia write on her grimoire for a _long ass_ time.

"How about this book?" Tia offers it with a grin while Kyoya and Kusakabe read the title. ' _Animal Farm_ ' by George Owell. Tia knows that it's hardly the book to offer to a young kid, but the thought of a young Hibari Kyoya reading it sounded _pretty_ funny to her. "I've heard it's _very_ good!"

Without a word, Kyoya takes it and goes to a nearby seat and table. He began diligently reading the book and Kusakabe just looks at her, a criticizing look on his face.

" _Animal Farm_ is not a book for kids." Kusakabe only tells her.

"I know but I saved you the trouble of dealing with a beat up Japanese government did I?" Tia grins at him as she goes back to her desk. "Perhaps also saved you from an engagement ten years too early."

"Somehow, right now, I believe that letting Kyoya biting you to death would've been a good action." Kusakabe frowns. "Though I believe I owe you my thanks."

"You're welcome, I suppose." Tia smiles at him and once more opens her grimoire, determined to get these next passages right. "If I were you, I'd go and accompany him with reading the book, wouldn't want him to get the ideals wrong."

Kusakabe simply sighs and goes to where Kyoya was sitting, determined to not get the other into communism and capitalism. Tia smiles, and returns to recording new history being made in front of her very eyes.

* * *

( _'The young cloud guardian of Vongola was smiling rather devilishly as he continued reading the book, Animal Farm. His companion, Tetsuya Kusakabe and future husband perhaps, was beside him and was trying his best to explain the ideals of the book. Tetsuya Kusakabe had a rather nervous face as he realized that he had the hardest job in the world._

 _On the side note, this sun historian is rather regretting giving the young cloud guardian the book Animal Farm. It is quite obvious that the cloud would be a communist and no one likes a communist.'_ )

* * *

A book was thrown at the desk, and almost let the inkpot of Tia fall. The historian was barely able to catch it and was thankful that she was able. She did not want black ink to color and destroy her desk any more. Her deep coppery red hair bounced as she frowned at the other guy—probably Kyoya. Her look softened as she saw the apologizing look Kusakabe had.

"I'd like to borrow this book, _herbivore_." Kyoya stares her down as if daring her to say anything. Tia rolls her eyes, as if anything she says will change the other's mind. Only his father and Kusakabe can do that, she supposes, if she goes by the previous history she recorded.

"Of course! D'you have a borrower's card or will we have to make one for you?" Tia asks and when she is met by a silent response she can't help but sigh. She takes the things needed to make a borrower's card and hands them to Kyoya. "Fill and sign these cards and we'll be able to let you borrow that book in a jiffy!"

Kyoya takes the card, but not before glaring at the other. This was going to be a long borrower's card application.

* * *

 _('In the end, Hibari Kyoya was able to borrow the book without little to no difficulty. Though let the record state that the librarian, in this case also the writer of this grimoire, was very much threatened during the whole thing'_ Tia later writes in the grimoire.)

* * *

When Kyoya and Kusakabe leaves, Hestia cannot quite help but sigh in relief before tensing up and remember the bleeding of her nose that happened. ( _something that should never_ _ **ever**_ _happen_.)

She can't quite help but touch her nose and then look at her finger again. She found no blood and she quickly once more sigh in relief. It was, perhaps a figment of her imagination, something that she hallucinated and perhaps something that happened because of her dwindling sanity.

 _Of course!_ That must be the answer! Never mind the fact that there were drops of golden blood on her sleeve. Never mind that a cough was building up on her throat and—

She coughs into her hands, and then stares at the gold staining her fingers, her palms, her _hands_. She coughs once more, practically coughing her lungs _out_ and draining herself of her blood. She coughs again, falling to her knees, clasping the desk, trying to stabilize herself and as the coughs rack up her body. Hestia paints the floor and the edges of her desk with gold as she coughs out.

It _burned_ and coursed throughout her whole body and it was the most awful thing, feeling your blood, feeling you _very own_ life source leaving her. She starts feeling her blood pouring out of her nose, out of her eyes and out of her ears—but she does not know if it was real or just a hallucination, an effect of her dwindling sanity. She knows _very much_ that the blood she was coughing out was very much real since she can _feel_ it burning her throat and can see it painting not only her hands but her surroundings too. Hestia can no longer check if the blood from her nose, her eyes and ears were true since she cannot touch and see if it painted her surroundings as they were very much gold.

She stayed like that for an hour. Coughing out blood and scared for her own life. Scared of Tsuna's well-being. She was dying, and it was because of Tsuna's dwindling flames. The effect of _her_ Decimo being transferred in a little boy's body.

She stared once more at her hand. She could no longer see the shiny sheen of her two rings as they were both drenched in glitter gold. Hestia could not distinguish the blood from her hands by temperature alone, but she could feel its liquid texture as she rubbed her fingers together. She considers her choices. Would she tell and place a bigger burden on her charge or keep quiet and possibly disappear from this realm?

( _well, it wasn't as if she could not do her job from the other realm._ )

At that moment Hestia makes her decision and closes her hands, forming a fist. She was still coughing, but she had the _most_ determined expression on her face. It was stupid of her to think that she would be able to keep her physical form in this realm for more than a month without the proper flames to sustain her. She _knows_ deep down, even though she and Maryam had a little hope, that she would be able to keep this form but they forget. Rather, Hestia chose to forget—she was of Eclipsed Sun, the Sun Branch who relied on both purity and the strength of the flames to keep their corporeal form. This was her choice and she would not let this drag Tsunayoshi down, and she would not let her decision to do this make Tsunayoshi, the _Decimo_ , her charge, her _almost father_ cause harm nor grief to anyone.

Hestia 'Tia' Miamore had a somewhat shitty day. Her charge left her in the library in favor of doing homework in his house. The young Vongola Cloud Guardian and his future husband visited her with the intention of biting her to death (which, thankfully did not happen) and oh! She almost forgot! She was dying because her charge was now incapable of producing enough flames to keep her alive.

She was dying, and _by god_ will she keep this a secret from her charge.

* * *

(A young skylark sees the whole thing. The young cloud came back without Kusakabe only because he forgot his tonfa who he stuck on the librarian's—come to think of it he never even got the librarian's name—desk.

He is stuck there, frozen before he quietly but swiftly gets out of there. _Normal human beings_ does not cough up golden paint. They cough out coppery, metallic and reddish blood but they Kyoya has never met a person capable of coughing out gold. It sets his blood on fire, as curiosity courses through him. It was not everyday Hibari Kyoya would be confused and it was not everyday his curiosity would be triggered.

He may not know what the herbivore's name is but he definitely know where she lives and by _god_ will he get to the bottom of this.)

* * *

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	5. ignorance is bliss

"知らぬが仏"

caesar is not fit for duty.

he has been stabbed 23 times.

vignette will be taking over his duties for the mean time.

the code is still the same.

* * *

It was the afternoon after he got back from the library. Kusakabe has long left his house, with the copy of the (admittedly interesting) book in hand with a nervous look in his face. His father was in his navy blue yukata and was pouring himself _matcha_. He was smiling serenely as he poured and there was a spare teacup next to his cup.

"Would you want some tea, Kyoya?" He asked, as he gestured to the teacup next to his. "There is nothing quite like tea after a long day."

"No thank you father, I am quite good." Kyoya replies to him as politely as he can despite his whole being burned with curiosity as he replayed the scene that he saw just hours ago. He frowns as he thought about it, trying to find _any_ explanation for what he saw. This does not escape his father's attention (very little can, if Kyoya thinks about it).

"You seem distracted Kyoya. That is unlike you, but you perhaps already know of that." His father smiles at him, a hint of concern in his eyes and before Kyoya can take it the other way he continues. "I am not reprimanding you, mind you, I just want you to remember; 猿も木から落ちる, anyone can make mistakes, so if you have done a wrong deed, do not worry I will still forgive **y** ou." He stops and thinks for a moment, "Well, not before confiscating your tonfas if it is truly a bad deed." He smiles at the indignant protest of his son and promptly sticks out his tongue before taking a sip of his _matcha_.

"I have not done a wrong deed father!" Kyoya protests, conveniently forgetting about the incident before he went to the library in which he beat up two ( _rival_ ) yakuza members who were loitering near the _his_ school (and who gave his father some bad headaches lately, but that _definitely_ was not the main reason. Nope). He calmed himself down before replying, "I am just—I am worried."

"Oh. Did you and Kusakabe have a fight?" Takahiro frowns, setting his cup near his stomach. He sighs, still holding the beautiful ivory cup. "I know you are trying to court my dearest friend's son, rather, I think that you have successfully set up an arranged marriage with Chiharu without me knowing, but often you are too direct! It is understandable if you scared him off, tact is something people often wants you know."

"We did not have a fight!" Kyoya exclaimed, his face flushing red. Though, he did put the 'advice' his father told of him. "Though, Kusakabe has also expressed desire to marry someone close to him and the _obviously_ means me, I think. Hopefully."

His father chuckled, it was a bit comforting to know that his son was still a child bridled with insecurity it was still a bit unnerving to see him not confident in his actions especially in his intentions of pursuing the son of his second hand. "You know I am only joking Kyoya, though you did not deny that you have no tact." Takahiro's eyebrows quirked in curiosity. "Oh? You are worried for someone not part of your committee? That is… Unusual."

"四面楚歌.Defeat is clear; there is no use to contest against something that is true." Kyoya replies, shifting a bit in embarrassment.

"Humbleness is a virtue, so it is quite okay if you admit that you do not have any tact." His father laughs at the sleeve of his yukata as he says this, leaving only one hand holding his teacup. "Though I cannot quite help but notice that you have avoided my question."

"I—" Kyoya fidgets once more. He was certain that if anyone had the answer to his questions, it would be his father. Takahiro was more knowledgeable than anyone the young skylark has ever known. Sure, his teachers in his school would like to say and would like to brag that they were the reason why Kyoya was so smart, but they were _wrong_. It was his father's, and only through him, that he was able to pass school with flying colors. His father was perhaps the perfect example of a proper Heian male in modern times. Innocent, empathic, modest and an intellect, Kyoya has vowed to protect him (it is, after all, also Yue's wishes). He coughs, his father would not judge him if he would ask this question, perhaps it would be the very different.

"You—?" His father encourages him, watching him curiously.

"Can humans—can we have golden blood?"

Takahiro blinks, then laughs once more and for a moment Kyoya freezes, shame welling up inside of him for asking such a stupid question.

"I'll—I shall be taking my leave then, father." Kyoya starts to stand up, his face red with shame.

"No, please do not! I apologize Kyoya; I was not asking because of the absurdity of your question, it took me by surprise. I think I have the answer to your question though," Takahiro tells him, and Kyoya is filled with relief and then excitement at the words of his father. "I have heard of a man with golden blood. Of course his blood wasn't really _literally_ gold, but he was called such because he had a rare blood mutation."

"Oh." Kyoya was filled with dissatisfaction as he realized and pondered the words of his father.

His father frowned. "Were you expecting something else?"

"I—I did actually." Kyoya admitted, his hands fidgeting. "I was wondering if it was possible to have blood colored of gold."

His father froze for a moment as he tightened his hold on his teacup that Kyoya was afraid that his father would break the cup and injure himself. It was quite unsettling to see calm and gentle Takahiro to act so _out of character,_ to see him treat something (despite it being a non-living thing) so harshly. He was always a man who did not like needless violence. Kyoya was _almost_ afraid of his father but he quickly dismissed it because he _knows_ that his father would not do him any harm.

"Kyoya," His father starts, his voice _so_ cold that the young skylark almost flinches. "I have likened myself to be a good father, one who does not force you to do anything, just one who suggests things. That will not change, but I will strongly suggest you right now, " His normally warm grey eyes steels themselves to be a stormy grey and Kyoya swears he can see. "If you ever meet anyone who has golden blood, if you ever meet a _deity_ in real life; avoid them. Do not—do not—fraternizing with the immortal does not bode well for us mortals. Most are as toxic as their blood."

Kyoya shivered at the words and at the tone of his father. "Most?" He asked wanting to confirm more, _wanting_ to know more. It would be unlike him to bite someone he knows to death without proper information. If the new librarian of the town was in fact a deity, and if her blood was indeed toxic then it could bode bad things for Kyoya (perhaps he should also start keeping tabs with the other herbivore of the Sawada household, his aura did not feel like the weak and pathetic herbivore he was once).

"Most." Takahiro reaffirms. "There are deities who do not wish harm upon us or rather just would not want to meddle with our affairs. Not all deities are unkind, but not all of them are trusting of mortals." His father sighs, "If you think there is an immortal in our midst—please, _please_ do not do what I think you will do. It is best to just leave them to their own devices if they are not touching us."

Kyoya nods, and he lies to his father. Strangely enough, he realizes that lying to his father no longer bothers him at it once had.

* * *

( _"Hibari Takahiro does not understand this, perhaps he does but chooses to not comment upon it, but the folly and the downfall of his son would be his bloodthirstiness, inherited from his mother, and of course, like all Vongola guardians, the desire to protect his loved ones. These are not weaknesses, they are far from weakness, but it did cost the life of the cloud in the past future._

 _It is no surprise that Hibari Kyoya visits the library the very next day without his most trusted companion, his fangs bared out and his tonfas out. He scowls, wearing it as his armor, and he confronts the dying librarian._

 _Who was of course, as you all know, me._

 _Sometimes, I quite regret choosing to record at first-hand. You do not know the taste of true fear until you are at the receiving end of an angry cloud, fighting to keep his self the strongest and fighting to keep his loved ones safe."_ )

* * *

A tonfa whizzes by Hestia as she writes on her grimoire. It had been a fairly busy day as there were a few elderly women who wanted to borrow some cheesy and steamy romance novels, which greatly both pleased and bothered Hestia. The crack on her desk was sloppily taped with duct tape and by some miracle; it was not yet noticed by the head librarian. (The woman either had _very_ bad eyesight or was just so used to broken desks. Hestia did not know which was sadder; the thought that someone had an eyesight so bad that they no longer knew what was broken from not or someone that was so used to weird shenanigans that they did not pay them any heed.)

"You're back, Hibari-san!" Hestia smiles as she sees the cloud approaching her with tonfas out. She was a bit scared but she was starting to get used to the protective approaches of the young cloud. Even in the past future, he was ever the protective one. "Did you already finish the book?"

"Explain yourself, _immortal_." Kyoya spats out, burying his other tonfa inside Hestia's desk, making a new hole in it though this time Hestia did not mind, as she opted for just staring at the skylark's eyes in wide disbelief.

There was never a doubt that the past future's cloud knew that Hestia was something else— _was not_ human. Judging from the suspicious glances (that was almost downright hostile) the cloud often threw at her, he _had_ an inkling that she was not from this world. His senses were _so_ terribly sharp that Hestia almost thought he would find out what she was in the past future. Back in the past though, in a time where the young skylark would have a chance to _actually_ know her, she had placed bets that he _will_ find out what she really was. There was no other way and no other path for this timeline to take.

"Oh." Hestia simply says, shock coloring her voice. She may have betted on the young cloud to find and figure out what she was, she did not expect him to find out _so fast_ (though perhaps, he would have his father to thank for; he was ever the suspicious one.)

" _Yes, oh._ " The skylark snarls. "You have five seconds to tell me of your business in Namimori before you get _bitten_. What does an immortal— _what business do you have here?_ Those five seconds starts now."

"I—" Hestia stutters, she was always afraid of the cloud guardian even in the past future and it was no use lying. One of the curses of being an eclipsed sun was the inability to lie directly. "I'm here to record history!"

" _Likely story_ ," Kyoya yanks out the tonfa from the desk and prepares to strike Hestia. "Sorry to say but you get bitten now." He snarls.

"No, wait!" Hestia covers herself with her hands before covering her mouth specifically as she can feels the beginnings of a cough forming. "I'm—I'm telling the truth! I—I am not here to harm your father and it's not like I can." She says through a muffled voice and Kyoya stops for a moment. Hestia takes this as the sign to continue. "I am weak, the weakest of all gods perhaps and—I am dying."

"Dying? Quit telling lies, herbivore!" Kyoya growls out and prepares to strike once more, "Immortal beings cannot die—"

"That is a half-truth!" Hestia exclaims, her hands moving away from her a mouth for a moment before she remembers that she could cough any moment now. The blood of most sun-governed gods cannot harm, instead they do the opposite, though a dying Eclipsed Sun's blood may have different properties that of a normal healthy one and Hestia did not want to take that chance and poison the young cloud. "We _can_ die, we just—we do not stay dead for very long."

"Then you wouldn't terribly mind if I bite you to death?"

"I would! I'm dying—but the source of my power is—" Hestia closes her eyes, what a sight she must be now. "If you have noticed, my pink eyes have been dulled to a greyish pink color, my skin is paler than yesterday; you see—we deities, we are not from this realm. If you bite me to death now, I would—I would not return to this world not until my source of power can be strong enough."

Kyoya stops and stares at her, and so far he cannot trace any lies from his words. He was bluffing a while ago when he attempted to call her out on her lie, but so far— _so far_ he hadn't notice any lies from her. She was telling the truth, a hundred percent.

"Tsunayoshi needs me, so please—"Hestia's voice cracks through her fingers. "I cannot leave him just yet—"

The cough that she has been feeling since a while ago comes up. Tremors rack her body as she hacks her lungs out and she _knows_ the young cloud will be watching her with fascination but she still takes great care to keep him from touching his blood, but it does splatter near his tonfa though not the handle. She regains herself after a few seconds and she is glad that it was only a minor episode, and not one that will probably take most of her energy like the coughing episode from yesterday.

"I trust that you saw me coughing yesterday? That must be how you found out I was not a human." Hestia removes her hands from her mouth. She feels her lips dripping with something warm and she takes a look at her painted hands. The young skylark takes a step back, perhaps in wary. "Do not worry, even my unstable blood can do no more than just a small cough. Only a mild inconvenience, nothing more and nothing less."

Kyoya only stares at her with curious and intrusive eyes and Hestia cannot help but shiver.

"I cannot—I cannot die." She regains her composure, and the intensity of her voice. She lets her hands fall to her side but she closes them and clenches them in a fist. " _Please_ , I still have a duty to Tsunayoshi—just wait until I regain the power to stay in this realm."

Kyoya looks at her eyes and he sees the very same determination he sees every day in the mirror before he takes off to clean the streets of Namimori. His grip on his lone tonfa becomes lax and he remembers one of the earliest lessons of Yue before she left for her death.

He leaves and Hestia sighs in relief. He was never one to take down people who had honor.

* * *

( _"Listen child. One of the most formidable opponents in the battlefield would be one who has the desire to live." Yue whispers to him one day, "They will do anything and everything to live and often times,_ _ **often times**_ _it would be because they have someone to protect." She tells him, her eyes softening as she looked at him lovingly. "We should strive be those kind of people and thus—we should not hurt the people who lives by this unless we need to."_

 _Kyoya only nods._ )

* * *

There was a skylark outside of the window.

 _Oh dear,_ Tsunayoshi cannot quite help but think as he sees his future cloud guardian standing outside his window. It did—it did hurt to see him since the last time he saw the skylark was at his own funeral (he cannot quite forget the cloud's funeral—after all there was no body left to be buried). _What did Hestia do this time?_

It was not fair for him to assume right away that it was the fault of his historian but Tsuna _was_ laying pretty low, refusing to go outside except when his mother asked him to run an errand for her and even then that could hardly called going outside as he made sure to use the routes where he was positive he would not see ghosts. She _was_ acting a bit weird lately too. Yesterday she came home later than usual and when Tsuna asked about her day, she did not respond as cheerfully as she usually did but rather only gave Tsuna a weak smile and a weak response. She did seem paler than usual too—her pink eyes did dull a bit. Tsuna frowned as he thought about this; was Hestia suffering from overworking? He cannot recall if she did in the past future though, but it would seem likely judging from the recent actions of the historian. She _did_ also say that she recently used her prophetical ability.

He gulped down his fears, stood up and put on his best pacifist smile. He was not _yet_ in the level of fighting Kyoya head to head as he was admittedly skipping out on both his physical and flame training because he was more focused on drafting up plans to save his friends. It was rather irresponsible of him but he _just_ wanted to save _everyone_. Call it his hero-complex or anything but the people who died—it was his fault and he was determined to set it straight once more. (He was, more than anything, determined to save _him_ who was taken so early—it was just _unfair_.)

He walked up to the door of his window, _oozing_ fake confidence (one of the trick _he_ thought him), and then promptly opened it open with one movement.

"Can I do anything for you, Hibari-san?" Tsuna asked in his best sickly sweet voice that he often used when things did not go his way (which was not often, _mind you_ , he only used it when bastard famiglias were quarrelling and bad-mouthing Vongola _in front of him_ )

The carnivore looked and assessed Tsunayoshi for a few minutes before looking away. "Hn. Weak." He then said, rustling a few of Tsuna's feathers. "There's potential, but still— _weak_."

"Is there a reason for this visit?" _or did you just come to insult me_ , Tsuna childishly added in his mind. He _may be_ a twenty-something mafia boss in the past but that did not mean he could not be childish. He pouted on the outside though, to show his displeasure.

"Yes, actually. I've—" Kyoya stopped and hesitated, almost as if not wanting to tell this to Tsuna. It shocked Tsuna through and through and it was _unnerving_ to see the skylark like this. The young cloud took a deep breath and continued. "I am not sure if I should tell you this, but she is your charge, am I not wrong?"

"That would be…" Tsuna frowns, thinking about the relationship he had with the sun historian. "Not far from the truth?"

"Ah, then I suppose I should tell you, regardless of what she would like. I would just like to say though, I _did not_ bite her to death." Kyoya says, turning serious. He brought up a regular tonfa, but the more Tsuna looked at it the more he noticed something sparkling, _something glittering_. His eyes widens as he realizes what was on the tonfa.

" _You_ —"

"No, I did not. I did not even lay a hand on her." Kyoya calmly replies, and Tsuna realizes how idiotic for him to _even_ consider that as the splatters on the tonfa wasn't big enough. " _But_ , the immortal being is dying. She told me herself."

Tsunayoshi inhales sharply as he looks at the tonfa decorated with splatterings of vibrant gold and everything clicks.

* * *

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